


Every Step of the Way

by ahhhhrexa



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Argentina National Team, Before the World Cup, Brotp, FIFA World Cup 2014, Football | Soccer, Gen, Maschessi, captain armband, could be seen as brotp or slash take your pic, married, powerful relationship, teammates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7843561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahhhhrexa/pseuds/ahhhhrexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered to himself, breaking the long held silence in the room he occupied. </p>
<p>It was the truth. He always felt the weight of Argentina. Since the first time he put on his country’s jersey, he knew that he would be playing for more than just glory and love for home and country. The weight of a long-held desire that he held with his people made the load on his shoulders heavier as the years went by. Everything that he loved, that he feared, every inch of his country, the weight of it all was on his shoulders, and now, it was in the captain’s armband. </p>
<p>“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Masche said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Step of the Way

**Author's Note:**

> As you all will come to know, unless you follow me on Tumblr, I'm a huge fan of Maschessi (brotp or slash it doesn't matter.) This had first come to me when an anon asked me to write some headcanons for them. I was inspired to expand upon the little bit I wrote. I hope you all enjoy!

Lio didn’t know how much time elapsed since the earlier announcement and morning training. He lost all sense of it as soon as Sabella told him that he would be captain from now on; he would be captain during the World Cup. All he could recall up to this moment was the applause from his teammates, and the way his left foot kicked the ball into the net once after several failed attempts.

He was holding the armband in his hand. He let his fingers rub against the dark blue fabric, memorizing it with strokes and pinches. He left the crest alone though because he was unsure whether the colors of his country would burn him. It was avoided out of uncertainty and out of respect. What he was holding wasn’t something to take on lightly. It was an honor, but it was also a burden.

What was bestowed upon him was indeed a great honor. The armband wasn’t handed off lightly to just any player. He understood that to be captain was both a gift and privilege. It was a responsibility to one’s coaches, teammates, people, and country. But that responsibility was a burden, and it was very much something that held incredible weight.

It felt so heavy in his hands. It was like all the dreams and hopes of his people, of Argentina were encased in this article, in this symbol. He felt that if he dropped it all the fear, all the pain would come out and consume them all. He couldn’t wear it either. At least, he couldn’t wear it with ease. There wasn’t much he could offer to the team as captain. He doesn’t make speeches. He hardly instructs anyone on the pitch. All he can do is play, have fun (or at least try) and let his feet do the talking.

He could try. He could do all he can. He just wanted to make his home happy.

In this moment, he wished he wasn’t captain. It shouldn’t be him. It should be Mascherano. Now that man was the epitome of an Argentine. In the older man was a natural leader who breathed fire, and demanded excellence from himself and those around him. The way Masche carried himself exuded an almost an alpha like quality. He knew what to say in the group huddles. He always knew what to do; he could coach on the bench and on the pitch.

Masche had worn it before. He should still wear it. It’s what was right.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered to himself, breaking the long held silence in the room he occupied.

It was the truth. He always felt the weight of Argentina. Since the first time he put on his country’s jersey, he knew that he would be playing for more than just glory and love for home and country. The weight of a long-held desire that he held with his people made the load on his shoulders heavier as the years went by. Everything that he loved, that he feared, every inch of his country, the weight of it all was on his shoulders, and now, it was in the captain’s armband.  
  
“I’ll be with you every step of the way.”  
  
The soft voice was sharp to Lio’s ears, disrupting the silence and chasing away the dark thoughts that were daring to invade his mind. He looked up to see Masche before him standing tall, eyes glistening, and a comforting smile placed on his face. He averted his eyes from his friend unable to hold contact, unable to reveal the torment lying within. This was a moment where he felt inadequate as a sense of failure crept toward him.

Masche should be captain, he thought once more.

He was a pale comparison to what the other man had brought to the selection while wearing the armband. He felt himself extending his arm, offering it to his friend, hoping that he would just take it from him. Maybe that would alleviate the hurtful feelings he was experiencing. It didn’t matter if the other man or anyone else would think he’s running from the charge given to him. He just didn’t want it. He didn’t know if he could do it.

The one thing he knew was that Masche could.

Lio felt his friend’s strong hand grab his chin, pulling his face up to face him. Their eyes met despite Lio’s misgivings, and what he found in Masche’s eyes nearly made him lose his breath. His eyes were soft now, rarely anyone would see how soft it could be, but his affection for Lio was more than apparent in those eyes right now.

“I’ll go with you every step of the way.” Masche said. He sounded so confident, so sure of himself, so trusting. He never was one to lie especially when it mattered. He always spoke honestly. He said what he believed and he made anyone know what he believed.

“You are our captain,” he continued, emphasizing each word. The emotion in his voice made Lio’s hand tremble as he withdrew his extended arm that was so close to Masche’s chest. “I’ll follow you every step of the way.”

A shiver passed from Lio to Masche as the armband was taken from Lio’s hand. The piece looked at home in the other mans hand. It didn’t blend into him but rather complemented the man’s skin, the jersey, and the personality.

Lio could have sworn he saw an almost wistful look in Masche’s eyes as the man looked at the armband. He wanted to speak out, to say that the captaincy is made for Masche not for him. He wanted to ask if Masche felt the same way he did about it. He wanted to make sense of it all.

For a second, Lio thought Masche was going to put on the armband. The anticipation of seeing the rightful captain take what was his gave him goosebumps. He would cry out that this is what Argentina needed. This is what the team needed to see. But it didn’t happen.

Instead, Masche carefully started to loosen the armband. His eyes were hard with determination as he looked at it. The intention of what he was about to do sent a whirl of emotions from fear to anxiousness reminiscent to what Lio felt earlier to resurface into his mind. It made him feel the urge to recoil and to reject what was happening. But there was nothing he could for Masche fixed him once more with his powerful stare, challenging him to move, daring him to stop what was about to happen.

“Everyone will follow you.” Masche asserted. He with a delicate touch slowly brought the armband to Lio’s left arm. He slid it up, stopping when the bottom of the band covered the end of the jersey’s sleeve, and adjusted it as it laid it a bit above the elbow. Lio’s body shook with each movement, and sweat started to appear upon his face. He wanted to look away, but his eyes remained open.

“I’m with you every step of the way.” Masche declared; the power within his voice was louder now as if proclaiming it not just to Lio but to the world. Once again his words were backed by belief, by confidence. These words and the tone with them were words of a captain that needed no armband. They were spoken by a man that didn’t need to captain rather he needed to be there for everyone because that’s what kind of person he was.

Done with the work, Masche looked at Lio approvingly. His eyes were no longer sharp. What took the edges place was a shining light in those orbs. A satisfied smile rested on his lips as he took in the way Lio looked with the armband.

“I’m here every step of the way,” Masche promised quietly; it almost sounded like a whisper. The words brushed Lio’s body quickly. He inhaled it like oxygen and let it fill his heart and lungs. He felt his breathing steady and knew it was matching Masche’s.

He hoped he poured out his gratitude from his eyes to Masche’s. He hoped the other man could see how thankful he was to have him here. It was looking into Masche’s eyes that he found overwhelming passion, incredible power, and yes, haunting pain, that’s where Lio found his strength. The armband was still heavy. It still burrowed into his skin, testing his metal, his convictions.

But he wasn’t defeated.  
  
He wouldn’t be as long as Masche was there to correct every mistake, to give him advice, to just be there - every step of the way. 


End file.
